Chapter Six
Ella
Inarrow my gaze and focus on the section of the cliff. If those really are stairs, they blend perfectly into the rock. They’re almost invisible to the naked eye.
The longer I study them, the more certain I become.
They really are stairs.
They’re narrow, but they’re there.
And if they’re there, people must have used them.
My pulse quickens.
It’s my way out.
My heart leaps at the possibility, but I force myself to stay calm.
Okay. Think.
If I’m going to do this, I need to move quickly before someone comes looking for me. I have no money, no phone, and no idea how long it might take to find help. I’ll need provisions.
But what is there?
And what happens once I escape?
One step at a time. I’ll figure the rest out later.
My gaze sweeps over the alcove until it lands on the tray of food Mariella left behind. I devour the fruit first. If I’m about to attempt something this insane, I should at least start with a full stomach.
I wrap the bread and pizza in a napkin and try to stuff them into my dress pockets.
Too small.
Mariella also left two bottles of water. I’ll need those too, but there’s nothing to carry them in.
Scanning the table again, I notice the blue tablecloth.
That will work.
It’s large enough to hold everything and could double as a blanket if I end up spending the night out here.
I pull it off the table and quickly fold it into a rough bundle, placing the water and food in the center. Using my belt, I tie the top closed, creating a makeshift rucksack.
It’s not pretty, but it will do.
I glance around the gardens to make sure no one has noticed my activity. The path is empty.
Good.
Before I can second-guess myself, I swing one leg over the balustrade and slide down the other side.
There’s only a narrow strip of rock before the cliff drops off steeply.
Don’t look down.
I inch along the ledge, keeping my body low so I won’t be seen from the house.
A ridiculous thought crosses my mind.
Maybe the blue of my dress blends in with the ocean below.
Of all the things to worry about right now.
Focus, Ella.
My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might burst from my chest. Adrenaline surges through my veins, making my hands tremble.
Despite my better judgment, I risk a glance down over the edge.
My stomach lurches.
It’s a very long way down.
I grip the balustrade tighter and force my eyes forward again.
Do not look down.
Sweat trickles down my temples and the back of my neck. My breathing comes faster than I’d like.
This is madness.
I was not built for this. And it’s not even the stairs yet.
But the alternative is staying here as someone’s prisoner.
No. I refuse to accept that.
At last, I reach the top of the stairs.
Calling them stairs is generous. What lies before me are narrow steps carved directly into the rock, uneven and barely wide enough for my feet. There is nothing to hold on to. One wrong move and I’ll be tumbling three hundred feet to the rocks below.
I break out in a sweat just looking at it.
I can do this.
Just one step. Then another.
With my heart pounding, I begin the descent. Sweat beads on my skin, the faint sea breeze doing little to cool me. The sun beats down mercilessly as I inch lower, one careful step at a time.
Freedom lies somewhere below.
I press my body against the cliff wall, the rough stone scraping my arms and legs as I move.
A few steps down, my progress halts.
Several of the steps are missing.
The empty space makes my head spin. My fingers tighten against the rock.
I stare at the gap below me.
What now?
Breathe.
I force myself to inhale slowly, steadying my shaking hands.
There is no turning back.
As I weigh my options, a sudden gust of wind whips along the cliff face. My body sways dangerously toward the edge.
For one terrifying second, time stops.
I flatten myself against the rock, fingers digging into every tiny crevice I can find.
My pulse hammers in my ears.
I close my eyes and stay perfectly still until the wind dies and my breathing steadies.
God, what was I thinking?
I’m going to die doing this.
Carefully, I lower myself until I’m sitting on the rock and slide down the missing section of steps. My palms burn as they scrape along the stone, but I manage to reach the next intact foothold.
I push myself upright again.
A rock shifts beneath my shoe and skitters down the cliff.
My heart stops as my balance tilts toward the void.
A sharp curse escapes me.
Instinctively, I throw my weight against the cliff wall, clinging to the rough stone as if it were the only thing tethering me to the world.
Which, at this moment, it probably is.
I remain frozen there, my breath coming in ragged bursts while I fight to regain control of my shaking limbs.
My arms and legs tremble violently, but I force myself to keep moving.
I’m stranded halfway down the cliff now.
Down is the only option.
With careful, deliberate movements, I take another step. Then another, keeping my eyes fixed on the narrow path in front of me.
I refuse to look anywhere else.
Then—
Shouts erupt from above.
I freeze.
Slowly, I glance up.
Oh no, no, no.
A security guard has spotted me. He waves his arms wildly, shouting something in Italian.
Cold fear shoots through me.
There are only about ten steps left. I take them as fast as I dare.
Please, don’t shoot. Please, don’t shoot.
I risk another glance upward. The guard hasn’t drawn a weapon. Instead, he pulls out his phone, barking rapid instructions.
Calling for backup, no doubt.
The moment my feet hit the rocky shoreline, I turn right and hurry along the water’s edge.
The terrain slows me immediately. Large stones and jagged boulders are scattered everywhere, forcing me to climb and scramble instead of run.
Behind me, more shouting erupts.
I glance back.
Several guards appear at the top of the cliff. One of them is already starting down the stairs.
They’re bigger, stronger, and far better equipped than I am.
I tear my gaze away and keep moving.
If I can just reach the bend in the shoreline ahead, I’ll disappear from their sight.
And hopefully there will be many more bends after that.
My feet begin to ache almost instantly. The thin soles of my ballerina flats offer little protection from the sharp stones, but I’m grateful I chose flat shoes at all.
Each step sends small jolts of pain up my legs.
Still, I keep going.
Stopping isn’t an option.
Those men are coming for me, and if they catch me, they’ll drag me straight back to that house.
I round the first bend and keep scrambling over the uneven rocks.
The coastline twists and curves ahead of me, cliffs rising on one side and the restless sea on the other.
The bends in the shoreline shield me from my pursuers. Good.
But I need more than distance.
I need somewhere to hide.
My eyes scan the rock face as I hurry forward.
Then I see it.
A narrow gap between two boulders in the cliff.
Hope surges through me.
I hurry toward it to get a closer look.
It’s a narrow slit in the rock, barely four feet high. It could be the entrance to a small cave, but from where I stand it’s impossible to tell. The opening is swallowed by darkness.
I crouch and peer inside.
Nothing but shadow.
Scanning the shoreline, I grab a fallen branch and carefully poke it into the gap. The stick slides forward without resistance.
Deep enough.
Still, I hesitate.
Do I really want to crawl into that?
For all I know, something already lives in there, waiting for me to sit on it. Crabs. Snakes. Bats.
My stomach turns.
Come on, Ella. You like animals.
Then I hear it.
A low mechanical hum drifting across the water.
My heart drops.
A boat.
They’re coming for me.
Decision made.
I crouch and squeeze through the narrow opening, scraping my shoulders against the rock as I slip into the darkness.
The air inside is cool and damp, thick with the sharp scent of salt and seaweed. My sweat-soaked skin chills instantly, goosebumps racing across my arms.
I press myself against the cave wall just beside the entrance, my legs trembling so badly they barely hold me upright.
My heart is still hammering.
I don’t dare move farther inside. At least the gap is too narrow for the guards to follow. Most of them would never fit through it.
Though if they knew I was in here, they could simply wait.
My eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. The cave is small, uneven rock closing in around me.
Please don’t let there be spiders. Or snakes. Or bats.
I stay perfectly still, forcing myself to breathe slowly until the pounding in my chest eases.
Waiting until dark is probably my best option. Under the cover of night, I might be able to move along the shoreline without being seen.
Assuming those men eventually give up searching.
Which seems unlikely.
Voices suddenly echo outside.
I freeze. Not that I was moving.
The voices grow louder. Two… maybe three men.
A beam of light suddenly cuts across the entrance.
A flashlight.
My entire body locks.